


Estate Sale

by Fulla



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3785395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulla/pseuds/Fulla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has inherited his aunt's property. The plan is to sell it...unless Thor gives him a reason to stay. <br/> <br/>Rating may change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The house was bigger than Loki remembered. An old two-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch, high ceilings and wide, open rooms flooded with east-west light, it made a stark contrast to the narrow hallways and dark paneling of his cramped London flat. So unaccustomed was he to the sheer size of the place, made all the larger by the three acres of rolling hills surrounding it, that for most of April he slept curled up on the couch in the front room.

His aunt had left him the house, along with everything in it, and he was filled with a strangely uneasy nostalgia as he went through the kitchen cabinets and rustic wooden furnishings, sorting out knickknacks and clothing into piles of "sell" and "donate." He hadn’t seen Madeline since he was eight, when his father died and his mother moved them back to England. Yet he had vivid memories of sunny Sunday mornings, breakfast at the long table, his father pouring milk from this silly cow creamer dish.

Odd how one’s life could be reduced to such trivialities.

The land had been neglected in the last years of Madeline’s illness. The wooden planter holding the maple in the front yard was crumbling into decay. Sagging fence posts needed replaced. The vegetable garden was overrun. Loki devoted the first week of May to cleaning out the potting shed and checking the state of the tools, then spent two days hacking down a forest of milkweeds half his height.  

Rifling through the bookcases, he found a worn copy of _Gardening in Zone 5_ , marked up with Madeline’s neat annotations in the margins and folded sketch-pages of gardens past. _Gladsheim Gardens – best seedlings,_ she’d written on the first page.

He lifted his head to stare out the sliding glass door at the overgrown yard and the raw, turned earth running the length of the fence.

It would be foolish to plant. He wasn’t planning to stay any longer than it took to clean up the property for sale.  

_These are cucumber vines, Loki, aren’t they lovely? We’ll can pickles in the fall._

He turned over the sketch of her last garden, three years earlier, and started a list.

 

* * *

 

 

Gladsheim Gardens was sprawled across a two-acre lot at the edge of town. Loki parked next to a drainage channel, spanned by a covered wooden footbridge with a gazebo at its center, and took a moment to absorb his surroundings as he strolled across. It was just after nine on a Wednesday morning, but spring had already been in the air for a month and the place was bustling. Couples, mothers with small children, an elderly man in a straw hat. A stocky Asian watering hanging plants from a long narrow spout. A burly, massive redhead and a slightly smaller, _very_ attractive blond were  moving bags of soil into the bed of a rusting white pickup.

Loki’s gaze lingered upon the blond, appreciating the lines of the man’s long legs, broad shoulders, an ass that looked amazing even in those ridiculous denim overalls. He was laughing at something the redhead said, giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder as he straightened up and glanced over to where Loki was still standing on the bridge.

Blue, blue eyes, striking even from this distance. Loki sucked in a breath.

The man smiled and lifted one hand in greeting. Loki mirrored the gesture and instantly felt a blush stain his cheeks.

The redhead elbowed him and said something that made him grin, and he turned back to the bags.

Loki shivered all the way down his spine and went in the opposite direction.

 

* * *

 

 

The place was enormous. For an hour Loki wandered through the enclosed greenhouses, until he had an entire cart filled with vegetable seedlings and found himself in front of a long table stocked with herbs. There was a perfect spot, just under the kitchen window, where he could start a tea garden –

“Did you need help finding anything?”

The voice was friendly and warm and decidedly male. Loki glanced over his shoulder to find the golden bear from out front now standing behind him, rocking back and forth in his work boots and smiling widely.

From a distance, he’d been cute. Up close he was _gorgeous_ , all bronze muscles and straight white teeth and a delicious two-day scruff. And those _eyes._ Bluer than a summer sky. For a moment Loki was speechless.

“Um,” he managed at last.  _Smooth._ He gestured to the sea of green that was his cart. “More a matter of what _not_ to take, it seems.”

The big man grinned, and then frowned slightly, curiosity creasing a line in his forehead as he caught on to Loki’s accent. “You’re not from around here.”

“No,” Loki agreed, suppressing a smile.

The man tilted his head slightly, expecting more, but Loki offered nothing and his expression of intrigue deepened, smile widening as he extended a hand. “Welcome to town. I’m Thor. This is my place. My parents’ place,” he amended.

Thor’s palm was warm and callused and lingered upon his for a few beats longer than was strictly necessary. “Loki.”

“Well.” Thor dropped his hand. “If you need anything, just flag one of us down.” He popped the strap on his denim overalls, gesturing to the logo of an apple tree printed on the bib.

Loki’s smile broke through. “Thanks.”

Thor turned and walked back toward the front, a slow stroll, pausing now and then to straighten an errant plant back into the neat rows crowding each table. He did not look back, fortunately, because Loki found he absolutely could not tear his gaze away. He’d not seen anybody so gorgeous in… well, ever, really.

At last he shook himself back to reality and turned to examine the table before him. Cilantro. What was he doing here? He hated cilantro.

_Focus, dammit._

By the time he wheeled his cart up to the cashier, it was crammed with herbs and vegetables, half a dozen clay pots, a new hose, bags of blood and bone meal, and a pair of green leather gloves. Mentally tallying the damages as the buxom girl behind the register began piling the seedlings into a cardboard flat, he cringed; he’d gone way over budget. The tools had needed scrubbed but were otherwise in good shape, so he was ahead there, at least.

“Ambitious,” she grinned.

“Yes, I suppose so.” Loki smiled, taking a proper look at her for the first time. A lovely woman, actually. Small but curvy, wide blue eyes, long dark curls pulled into a messy bun. Definitely along the spectrum of his type, when he went for a girl. “I’m not sure how I’m going to get it all in the car,” he confessed with a laugh.

“We can deliver,” she offered, counting the cucumber plants under her breath, _“five at two-fifty,”_ glancing back up with a smile, “but, I think it would have to be this afternoon…Thor’s got a few ahead of you.”

“I’ve got a few what?” Thor popped up from behind an aisle of how-to books, pushing a cart with a pair of medium-sized apple trees up to the register.   

“Deliveries,” said the girl. “Are you planting those, or just dropping off?”

“Planting.” Thor glanced from her to Loki. “It’s over on Kelly Road, probably take a couple hours with the drive, but…”

Loki shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I can get it.”

“Oh, well.” Thor’s smile fell a bit.

“I’ll be back, though.” It came out a bit too fast, and Loki shrugged. _Casual_. “I – there’s a tree, in the front yard, needs a retaining wall.” This was true, of course. Though he hadn’t planned to deal with it yet.

“We can help you with that,” said the girl. “We have all kinds of stone. Thor can build it, too, if you like. Okay, that’ll be two-thirty-eight-seventy-two.”

“Thor is very busy this week,” retorted Thor with a smirk. “Don’t be making promises I can’t keep, Darcy.”

Darcy glanced at Loki and flashed a wicked smile as she returned his credit card. “That’s true. I guess Volstagg can do it.”

Their eyes met for a moment, and Loki felt laughter tug at the corners of his mouth. “Well, I’ll be back to look at that then.” His gaze lingered on hers for another beat. She really did have remarkably pretty eyes.

“Great.” She gave him a very obviously admiring once-over, and grinned. “Have a nice day.”

“Same to you.” He returned her smile and wheeled his cart away without looking back.

He was just to the entrance when he heard Thor’s furious whisper. _“Volstagg?”_

He didn’t stop grinning the rest of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos! I love hearing from you and it is truly inspiring to continue when you know people are enjoying your work. Thanks for reading. :)

 

 

Loki forced himself to wait a few days to return.

It took a full day to plant the herbs and vegetables, and another to sort out the logistics of the retaining wall he wanted for the tree – size, shape, type of stone. After sketching and measuring he spent a couple of hours on the Gladsheim website, perusing his options and barely pausing at all to study the picture of the family and crew on the home page. A tall, regally Nordic woman in the center, flanked by Thor on one side and a graybeard with an eyepatch and rather grim smile on the other; half a dozen others, including Darcy and the big redhead, fanned out behind. All of them clad in the same denim overalls he’d seen the other day.

Charming.

The third day dawned gray and cool, a scent of rain in the air that felt like home.  Edgy and restless, he set out on a long run around the property, over gentle hills that rose to steeper slopes, picking his way through the overgrown trails of the glade that bordered the eastern edge. Twice he was nearly tripped up on the undergrowth but managed to dodge the obstacles with a triumphant grin, then promptly caught a toe on a tree root and sprawled hands-first into the dirt.

_Ouch._

He lay panting on the trail for a moment, palms stinging, before pulling himself to sit up and brushing the grit from his hands. His ankle hurt like hell and his sweats were torn at the knees, embedded with pieces of gravel; gingerly he lifted his left pant leg and grimaced at the bruise already blooming.

_Fuck._

A brief flash of lightning streaked across the sky overhead, followed immediately by a clap of thunder.

_FUCK._

Slowly he got to his feet and found he could walk well enough, though with a limp at a snail’s pace. It took nearly half an hour to hobble back to the house. By then his stride had loosened up a bit, and he sat down at the step to take another look. The bruise had deepened to a dark purple and was starting to swell, but other than being damn painful it didn’t seem serious.

Still, it seemed prudent to ice it and stay off of it for a while. With a sigh Loki dragged himself back into the house, wrapped a pile of ice into a kitchen towel, and stretched out on the couch in the front room as the rain began to fall.

He’d missed the rain.

 

* * *

 

He woke hours later, stiff in every muscle and unpleasantly sweaty around the collar of his shirt. The sky was clear but the air was heavy with humidity, the house stuffy and warm. Gingerly sliding off the sofa to his feet, he limped to the window and pulled it all the way open, closing his eyes at the rush of cool damp air that flooded in. 

His ankle looked the same. Bruised and rather alarmingly swollen, but not overly painful as long as he didn’t put his full weight on it. _Walk it off,_ his track coach would have advised, and he threw back his shoulders and headed to the kitchen, suddenly starving. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and that only a couple of scrambled eggs with toast.

The pickings were unfortunately slim, though; shopping was one of the things he was supposed to have done this afternoon, after the garden center. Staring at a choice of plain noodles, more eggs and toast, or a bowl of cereal, he shut the refrigerator and plucked his keys off the rack on the wall. There was a pub with decent food near the grocery store. Food, beer, shop, home, sleep.

It was good this happened. Silly to waste more time and money on the yard. Starting a vegetable garden was bad enough; the tree ring was totally unnecessary. It did need replaced but it wasn’t going to be a deciding factor in selling the place. There was only one reason he wanted to go back to Gladsheim and it was a foolish, stupid reason.

Thor had seemed interested, true. But men like him often did, only to chicken out when it came down to it. Loki would get sucked in, get his hopes up, get smitten. Allow himself to _like_ him.

And when it became more than a crush, as it always, _always_ did? 

Futile. It wasn’t like he was _staying_ here.

Tomorrow he would get back to work. He had a backlog two weeks old, deadlines looming, and his money was running low.

He pushed his feet into a pair of loafers that had long since been relegated to house-slippers, grabbed his jacket, and headed to the pub.

 

* * *

 

 

An hour later, reading emails on his tablet with a steak sandwich dripping grease down his left pinky, Loki looked up as the door banged open in a gust of damp air and laughter.

_Oh holy god._

Thor, hair tied back in a ponytail, hands stuffed into the pockets of a worn bomber jacket as he walked in past the tall, goateed blond that had held the door open for him. “Just one,” he grinned over his shoulder to the fellow behind him – the redhead from the shop. “She knows you’re with us, she’s not expecting you for at least an hour.”

“One _pitcher,_ then,” the redhead clapped a hand on Thor’s shoulder. “Dunno what you two are having…”

Loki looked quickly back down at his tablet, letting his hair fall over his face as the trio moved toward a booth just three away from his own. _Of course._ Usually so meticulous in his appearance, and the _one time_ he leaves the house without so much as glancing in the mirror? He hadn’t even changed out of his ratty sweats and t-shirt, and his hair – oh sweet Jesus, his hair, combed with his _fingers_ and all…curly…ugh.

His waitress was at their table in a trice, all smiles and swinging hips. “Gentlemen,” she drawled, much more friendly than the perfunctory smile Loki had received. “Nice to see you, it’s been _so_ _slow_. The usual? Shots?”

“Not tonight.” This from the redhead, drawing groans of protest. “Now you know I can’t, I told you before, _shut it,”_ he shouted them down, laughing. “Just a pitcher. Oh, and Sif, will you put in a bacon cheeseburger and fries to go in about half an hour? Extra pickles. Like, _tons_ of pickles.  Sammi’s got a craving.”

 _“Another?”_ Sif exclaimed. “What is this, seven?”

“Four,” he protested. Loki glanced over through the curtain of his hair to see the hurt flash across the big man’s face. “What? We like kids.”

The waitress grinned, shook her head, and tucked her pen into the knot of her high ponytail. Her smile turned gentle and she patted the man’s shoulder. “Congratulations, Volstagg. Sure you don’t want a shot? On the house.”

 _“Yes,”_ replied the blond, giving Sif a cheeky grin. She rolled her eyes.

Volstagg grinned and nodded. “Thanks.”

“Yes! Thor, what the hell is wrong with you.” The blond elbowed him, and Loki chanced a brief glimpse – just in time to meet his eyes.

 _Blue._ So impossibly blue. He’d almost forgotten.

Thor’s forehead creased in a frown, and Loki quickly stared back down at his tablet. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize him. One could hope.

Sif paused at his table, gesturing to his nearly-empty beer. “Another?”

“No,” he said instantly. She looked taken aback, and then annoyed. “Thank you,” he amended. “Um, just the bill.”

She nodded and walked away. Loki kept his eyes trained on his tablet, staring unseeing at his latest translation job, a business proposal needed in Norwegian and German. Somewhat lengthy…not terribly technical…due in six days, he had to get started immediately.

From the corner of his eye he saw Thor get up, heading his way, and cringed; but though he slowed a bit as he approached Loki’s booth, he kept going, and disappeared around the corner to the toilets.

Relief warred briefly with hurt – seriously, he didn’t recognize him? – but relief won easily.

Sif returned with his bill and a polite smile. “Whenever you’re ready,” she gestured to the ticketbook.

He made himself meet her eyes, and forced a return smile. She was a tall, willowy woman, dark-eyed and black-haired, quite beautiful actually, but there was a hardness in her expression that made him a little uncomfortable. “Thank you.”

She smiled – barely – but didn’t reply, turning instead to flash a grin at Thor as he came back, running his hands through his hair, no longer in a ponytail. “Hey,” she began, “I was looking at – ”

“Hey!” Thor stopped at Loki’s table, tapping it lightly with the tips of his fingers. “I thought that was you.” He glanced at Sif. “I’m sorry, Sif, what’s that?”

She glanced back at Loki. “Nothing.” She pressed her lips together in an approximation of a smile and went back to the bar.

Loki dug into his jacket for his wallet. He had to get out of here immediately.

Thor was looking at him again; it took all his willpower not to meet his eyes. “Almost didn’t recognize you,” Thor said, casting a half-grin at Loki’s unkempt hair. “We got some new stone in today, a really nice charcoal mix color…” He trailed off with a frown. “What happened to you?”

Loki’s eyes shot to Thor’s. “What?” he bristled. This man didn’t know him, maybe Loki was just a slob on a regular basis, who was he to just _presume –_

“Your - ” Thor gestured to his hands. “Did you have an accident?”

Loki followed his gaze to the scrape on his left palm. “Oh. Um. Yes, had a disagreement with the jogging trail.”

Thor looked puzzled for an instant, then grinned. “Ouch. You okay?”

“I’ll live.” He cringed a little at the curtness of his tone, and the corresponding fall of Thor’s smile. “Sorry. Thanks for asking,” he tried again. “Twisted my ankle a bit.”

“Oh, rough.” Thor glanced down, but the table blessedly hid Loki’s torn sweats. He lifted his gaze back to Loki and smiled brightly. “Well…would you like to have a drink with us?” He nodded toward his friends, who were watching the exchange with identical expressions of mystified interest. Raising his voice to be heard, he added, “We’re having a little celebration, Volstagg’s wife is expecting. _Again_ ,” he grinned.

“She is certainly fertile,” Volstagg sighed with false resignation, for he was clearly pleased.

Loki hesitated. A drink with _Thor_ sounded appealing, horrid appearance be damned. A drink with Thor’s _friends_ sounded…stressful.

“Come have a shot with us,” Thor persisted. “Ease your pain.” He waggled his eyebrows persuasively.

Christ, he was adorable. The grin that shot to Loki’s lips came completely against his will, but it was too late to hide it. He nodded. “All right. One,” he warned. “I still have to drive.”

Thor’s smile was worth the discomfort sure to come.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the great reception to this story. This chapter hated me. I'm calling a truce with it and moving on.

 

As Loki had suspected, this was not a good idea.

Not that Thor’s friends were unpleasant. Quite the opposite, actually. He was having _fun._

“Thought I recognized you,” Volstagg snapped his fingers as Loki slid into the inside of the booth, and instantly cursed himself, for now he was trapped. “From the shop.”

“Right.” Loki smiled. The man radiated good cheer, one of those people it was impossible not to like.

“Yeah, Darcy wouldn’t shut up about you all afternoon.” Volstagg winked. “She’s single you know.”

Loki pressed his lips together, holding in his smile. “I’ll…keep that in mind.”

“Darcy has a mouth,” Fandral declared. “And she could put it to much better use, if…” He trailed off as Sif set her tray down on the edge of the table, and gave her a sunny smile. “Sif darling, another glass for our friend here?”

Sif gave Fandral a withering look, setting out shots of something amber for the others. “Staying after all?” she directed at Loki.

“So it seems.” He handed the ticketbook back to her. “If you can just keep it open…?”

“Nah, put him on ours,” Thor said.  “I talked him into it. Shot?” he invited, pushing his own toward Loki.

“Fireball,” Sif supplied at Loki’s inquiring look. “They’re horrid. Let me make you one without the Tabasco.”

He lifted the glass and gave it a sniff. Hot sauce, definitely. Also a sharp scent of cinnamon, and…rum? He glanced over at the delighted expressions of Fandral and Volstagg, then to Thor who was watching him with warm amusement in his eyes. Looking back to Sif, he shrugged, steeling his belly. “I’ll try it.”

“Excellent,” said Fandral, lifting his own to tap Loki’s glass.

“You sure?” she persisted. “I have to make another one anyway, for this one,” she gave Thor’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze, “and seriously, they’re…intense.”

He smiled, shrugged again. “If I vomit, it’s straight onto you,” he warned Thor.

Thor laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s not that bad.”

Sif shook her head. “They’re disgusting. But suit yourself,” she tossed her ponytail and walked back to the bar.

Fandral watched her go, sighing a little, and glanced back at Thor with sad eyes. “Christ, she’s gorgeous,” he said mournfully. “What do I have to do to get her to look at me?”

“Turn yourself into Thor,” Volstagg smirked.

Thor rolled his eyes, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks.

* * *

 

Sif was right: it was disgusting. Loki, not much of a shot drinker, thought he really might vomit. Tabasco burned a trail down his throat and he shuddered all over, slamming the glass down with a shaking hand.

“Told you,” she smirked, collecting the glasses on her tray.

“Duly noted,” he gasped, reaching for his beer.

“Sorry,” Thor laughed.

He looked at Thor over his glass with narrowed eyes. “No, you’re not.”

“Not really,” Thor agreed cheerfully.

* * *

 

Fandral was full of questions. “London, yes. But I grew up in Surrey,” he explained. Baffled faces all around. “South of London.”

“And you’re a – translator? Like –?” He made some gestures with his right hand.

Loki grinned. “No.”

“That’s an _interpreter_ ,” Volstagg scoffed.

“I translate articles –  books – technical papers, and such, into English,” Loki explained.

Fandral leaned forward to rest his chin on his fist. “What language?”

“German, most often. Sometimes French or Italian, or Spanish. Swedish, Norwegian. Depends on the job.” He shrugged.

 Thor was clearly impressed. “You speak all those languages?”

Loki smiled, inclined his head. He also spoke passable Russian and a bit of Czech and Polish, but it would just look like bragging to mention it.

“That’s amazing!” said Volstagg. “How do you know all that?”

“I’ve traveled a lot. And studied.” Loki modestly lifted a shoulder. “Languages seem to come naturally to me.”

“And now you’re here.” Fandral gave him a searching look. “Where is this farm your aunt left you?”

“A few miles down highway 2.” Loki waved a hand vaguely east. “It’s not a farm, really, just a few acres. She had some goats and chickens at one time, but it seems she gave them up when she became ill. Cancer,” he supplied, before Fandral could ask.

Thor gave him a strange look. “Where on highway 2?”

“Ithavoll Lane.”

Thor’s eyes widened. “Madeline Ellis’s house?”

Loki stared at him. “You knew her?”

“Kind of. She wasn’t…she kept to herself. But she bought from us all the time.” Thor took a long drink of his beer and said quietly, “I was sorry to hear about her passing.”

Loki stared into his glass. He didn’t feel _guilty,_ exactly. Madeline had never told him, or his mother, that she was ill. He hadn’t actually talked to her in – oh, probably two years. Calls were infrequent anyway; she liked to write letters. His mother declared this charming and insisted he return every one of her correspondences. Which he did, faithfully, but he never sent a letter until he received one first.

She hadn’t written at all last year, and he hadn’t even noticed.

Throat tight, he just nodded.

“Must be a big change for you, small-town America,” Volstagg cut in. “Used to driving on the right side of the road yet?” he laughed, tipping the rest of the pitcher into Loki’s glass.

Loki forced a smile as he looked up. Volstagg’s grin was infectious, though, and he found his lips curving into a mischievous smirk. “For the most part.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be getting him drunk,” Fandral remarked.

“Maybe,” Loki agreed, tilting back his glass anyway. He hadn’t been drunk in ages. Remarkable how… _freeing_ it could feel.

“Sif! Another round,” Fandral called.

* * *

 

Volstagg left when the next pitcher arrived, waving down their objections with a pointed gesture to the silver-and-tungsten band on his finger as he scooped up the bag of greasy goodness Sif had packed up. “My woman needs sustenance!” he boomed. “And I promised to put Hilde to bed tonight. Tomorrow, Thor,” he nodded, and then to Loki, “good to meet you. See you around?”

“Likewise,” said Loki, opting not to address the second part.

Fandral got a text not long after that made him smile down at his phone as his thumbs moved rapidly to reply. “Sorry boys, I’m gonna have to go.”

Thor smirked. “Heather?”

“Fuck no, she’s a nutcase. This is Amanda.” He sent his message with the telltale _whoosh_ and looked up at Thor’s puzzled expression. “From the hat store?”

“Ah,” Thor murmured.  

“There’s a hat store?” Loki wondered.

“You two have fun.” Fandral gave Loki a sly look as he dug a few bills from his wallet and tossed them in the center of the table. “Remember. _Right_ side.”

Loki rolled his eyes, but smiled.  At least they hadn’t insisted on mimicking his accent all night. Or making constant ham-handed references to tea and crumpets. In truth, Fandral was actually rather witty; he hadn’t laughed so much in weeks. It was odd to feel so immediately welcomed. They were all so… _friendly._

Fandral was out the door with a low remark to Sif that made her grin, even as she whacked his shoulder.

And then there were two.

Thor made no effort to move to the other side of the booth. “Shot?” he suggested, reaching for the pitcher to fill both their glasses.

“Not a chance.” Loki grimaced.

Thor pressed his lips together in a grin at Loki’s expression. “It doesn’t have to be a fireball, it can be something less…”

“Nauseating?”

“I was going to say harsh,” Thor laughed. “Honestly I don’t care much for those either, they’re sort of Fandral’s thing. And Volstagg is really more a tequila man.”

Loki met his eyes, glimmering in the dim light. “And what are you?”

“Mmm,” Thor took a long draught of his beer, gaze flickering over Loki’s face before coming back to his eyes with a hint of a smile. “Depends on my mood, I guess.”

Loki’s eyebrow twitched upward. From the corner of his eye he saw Sif watching them from the bar, endlessly polishing the same spot on the counter.

Thor broke first, clearing his throat and glancing down into his glass. “What about you?” he asked without looking up.

Sif pushed off the bar and started toward them, tossing her towel over her shoulder.

Loki glanced from her back to Thor and found those ice-blue eyes on him. A sly smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I’m more about variety.”

Sif stopped at their table, giving Loki a perfunctory smile before looking to Thor. “I’m about to get off,” she said, tapping the black booklet with the bill on the edge of the table. “Close out, or transfer?”

Thor glanced a question at Loki.

“There’s a nine-thirty of that Liam Neeson flick we talked about seeing,” she added, reaching for the pitcher and splitting the remainder between their two glasses. “If you’re ready to wrap it up.”

Thor looked back at her with half a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I, um…”

“I should be going,” Loki said, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. “Thanks for the drinks, and the company.” He flashed a smile at Sif as he pulled out two twenties and dropped them beside the bill. “Have a good evening.”

She blinked, but gave him a more relaxed smile in return. “Thanks, you too.” She stepped back so Thor could let Loki out of the booth.

Their hands brushed as Loki slid out. Loki shot a brief glance at his face, but Thor’s expression was unreadable. _See you later_ died on his lips and he said instead, “Good night.”

Thor evaded his eyes. “Bye.”

Loki slipped his jacket on and headed for the door, forcing himself not to look back and trying not to limp; his ankle was throbbing. “So, are we on?” he heard Sif ask behind him.

Thor’s voice came clear: “Sure, sounds good.”

Not looking back turned out to be easy.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Should I stay or should I go..."

 

The last appraisal of the land and house had it valued at $480,000, but the realtor advised that in the current seller’s market he could ask for an even five and expect to get it. “The farmhouse alone would fetch four,” she observed, running smooth white-tipped nails along the sideboard in the parlor, “and this _land!_ – fantastic view, southern exposure, a good road, excellent soil – oh, you’ll have no trouble getting five hundred for this place.”

Five hundred thousand dollars.

Minus taxes, of course, but – _half a million dollars._

Loki tucked the woman’s business card _– Zisa Ringdahl, Associate Broker, IEP Realty –_ into the pocket of his button-down. “I’ll need to think about it.”

“Of course. It’s a big decision.” The agent gave him a confident smile. She was a short fortyish blonde in a coral pantsuit, slightly plump and very buxom. “Investors are really looking at land right now,” she said as he led her back outside. “This isn’t a huge tract, but you have such a nice mixture here, with the open space and the hills, and even a little timber – lots of possibilities.”

“Mmm.” Loki looked out over her head at the triple tier of rolling yellow-green hills that stretched out beyond the driveway, up to the stand of oak and ash where he’d fallen.

“You’ll want to do something with that,” she nodded at the tree in front of the house. “Not a great first impression.”

He followed her gaze to the dilapidated wooden stake fence around the maple, and winced. Two solid weeks of rain had taken a further toll; one side sagged alarmingly. He could probably pull it apart with his hands.

“It’s a cheap fix,” Zisa said brightly. “Just a few bricks. There’s a good gardening center up the road. Though, it may be less expensive to go to the Home Depot up in Brockville.” She gave a vague wave northward with one hand as she opened the door of her Subaru. “Give me a call when you make a decision, alrighty?” she called as she slipped behind the wheel and shut the door.

“Thank you, I will.” Loki nodded and lifted a hand in farewell, watching as she pulled out of the long drive back to the road. She was the first human contact he’d had in nearly three weeks. A long time, even for Loki. He’d very nearly insisted she stay for tea.

He hadn’t been back to Gladsheim Gardens since the night at the bar. Hadn’t been much of anywhere, really; just the grocery store, where he picked up enough supplies to last a month, and for weeks he’d been occupied sunup to sunset with scrubbing the house and the old furniture, making minor repairs, tending the newly-planted garden. He’d picked up a job that kept him busy at night translating a complex technical paper, and he just didn’t have time for – people.

She was right about the tree, though. It was an eyesore, and the first thing a buyer would see; he’d have to go back. Although, maybe she was right – Home Depot would be less expensive. They delivered. Probably had a bigger stone selection, too.

Oh, who was he kidding.

 

* * *

 

 

Darcy was watching him. He could feel the girl’s eyes on him from the register, where she’d smiled and nodded when he walked through to look at the pallets of bricks and pavers. He hadn’t looked back to _confirm_ she was watching him, but there was no mistaking the burn of her gaze on the back of his neck.

He hadn’t seen Thor, and after the initial disappointment he decided he was relieved.

Pondering colors and patterns, he at last decided on charcoal/tan grooved bricks that would blend nicely with the blue trim on the house. He needed about sixty, though, far too many to load into his little car.

“Mmm, we are pretty booked up this week but we have an opening on Thursday afternoon,” Darcy tapped a pencil on the calendar. “Do you want to have it built? That’s probably too late to do it the same day, but there’s nothing scheduled for Monday yet, and --”

“Thanks, but I’ll be doing it myself,” Loki interrupted.

Darcy looked up from the calendar and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “By yourself? Have you built a retaining wall before?”

“No, but I did watch a very informative You Tube video,” he said dryly. “I’ll manage.”

“Well, sure. It’s just a lot faster with two.” She shrugged and looked back down at the calendar, face impassive. “So, Thursday one to three, or next Monday nine to eleven a.m., if that works better.”

“Thursday is good, thanks.”

She jotted something down. “Address?”

“18 Ithavoll Lane.”

“Phone?”

Loki recited his mobile number. 

“It’s 75 for the delivery,” she said without looking up. “Is that okay?”

“That’s fine.” He pulled out his wallet.

“Will you be there to tell him where to put it? If not we’ll need—”

“I’ll be there. Who, um,” oh, _bad idea,_ why had he begun this question – “who should I be expecting…?”

“Thor.” She glanced up at him then. “I heard you hung out with them a few weeks ago, him and Volstagg? And the pretty boy?” she wrinkled her nose.

He chuckled. “Ran into them at the pub, yes,” he confirmed, shrugging a shoulder.

“’Pub,’” she echoed under her breath, a grin touching her lips briefly before her expression became serious. “Well – it looks like Volstagg’s going to be in and out for a while. His wife has had some… pretty severe complications.”

“Jesus.” Loki stared at her. “Is she okay?”

“For now. She’s on bed rest. So Volstagg has been out a lot taking care of her, and the kids, so Thor’s got all the deliveries, and it’s been kind of crazy with summer coming on and everything.” She tapped the calendar again. “I’m going to block out the afternoon for you, in case you change your mind about having him build it,” she said casually, taking his credit card and swiping it through the machine.

A sudden visual of a shirtless Thor sweating over a pile of bricks in the afternoon sun filled his mind’s eye and sent a corresponding jolt through his body. But he forced himself to shake his head as he returned his card to his wallet. “That’s really not… necessary, and it sounds like he’ll be needed…”

“What Thor needs is an afternoon away from here,” Darcy said, handing him the receipt to sign and jotting down Loki’s home information on a pad titled _Deliveries and Services_. “He’s been putting in  twelve hour days since March. He’s here every day even when he’s supposed to be off. It’s starting to drive me seriously crazy.” She stapled the receipt to the delivery work order and added it to a pile of the same on a nearby clipboard, then met Loki’s eyes again with a knowing smirk. “And he likes you, so he won’t rush back.”

Well. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Thor is very friendly,” Loki replied carefully.

“Oh, sure. He’s friendly with everyone.” She tilted her head a little, eyes flicking over his face. “He _likes_ you.” 

There was no mistaking her true meaning, and his face went hot but he managed to keep his expression blank. “I think you’re mistaken,” he said coolly, tucking his wallet into his back pocket.

“I’m totally not.” She leaned forward on the counter, on her elbows, smirk widening as Loki’s gaze went automatically to her cleavage.

Loki caught himself, looked up to meet her laughing blue eyes. It pulled an unwilling smile from him until he realized and glanced away, biting the inside of his cheek. “It was my impression,” he said, meeting her eyes once more, “that he is rather close to the barmaid. …Sif?” he added at Darcy’s puzzled expression.

“Oh. _Oh!_ No.” She frowned, straightening back up. “Well…but, no. Not anymore,” she clarified. “They were together for a while. Actually a long time,” she conceded.

Loki lifted an eyebrow.

“Like, in high school. They’ve known each other all their lives.” Darcy glanced over both shoulders, confirming they were alone, and pitched her voice lower. “Sif is having a hard time admitting that Thor doesn’t play for her team.”

Loki leaned in closer. “And are you so certain of that?”

“Oh, I’m certain.” Her eyes twinkled. “Although I guess maybe he could be a switch-hitter. Like you?” she grinned, giving him an open-mouthed _oh no I didn’t!_ look.

He began a retort, held her gaze for a long, admiring moment, shut his mouth.

Her smile turned thoughtful. “To be fair, _Thor_ is having a hard time admitting he doesn’t play for her team,” she confided. “I mean, everyone knows it. But he hasn’t, actually, _said_ anything, officially. So it’s like, out there, but nobody talks about it. Like masturbation,” she said brightly.

Startled, Loki laughed. “ _Exactly_ like masturbation.”

Darcy gave him a single, approving nod. “I like your sense of humor.”

“It was your joke,” he pointed out.

“Exactly! You laughed.” She plucked one of the Gladsheim Gardens business cards from the little holder by the register and turned it over, scrawling a number in large, loopy script. “Here. If things don’t work out with Gorgeous George, you should totally take me to dinner.”

He tucked the card into his shirt pocket and flashed his most charming smile. He still had it: she looked like she might melt into a puddle on the floor. “May just have to do that regardless,” he winked, turning to leave.

“Oh man,” he heard her sigh, “I love Thor, but I kind of hope it doesn’t work out. Is that wrong?”

He laughed, and didn’t dare look back.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit.

Thor arrived in a torrent of rain that seemed to come out of nowhere.

Loki spent the morning pacing around the house, glancing at the clock every eight minutes or so, starting and abandoning half a dozen projects, unable to settle on any single task. Finally, at noon, he pulled on a hat and went outside to weed the vegetable beds and keep an eye on the driveway for Thor. Early…far, far too early…but he couldn’t stay put any longer, and gardening never failed to settle his nerves.

As always, a few minutes of pulling, digging, and getting his hands in the earth proved grounding. The day was warm and sunny, a few benevolent fluffy clouds on the horizon. An old tune his mother used to sing bubbled up in his chest and came out in a low hum as he worked one end to the other, forgetting for minutes at a time to listen for the truck, until the first few drops of rain splattered on his shoulders.

He looked up, puzzled – the sun was still shining – but the seeming distant clouds were fast upon him, and the rain began to fall in earnest. Yanking off his gloves, he piled his tools into the basket and made a beeline for the covered porch just as the white pickup truck turned into his drive and the sky opened up completely.

Thor was alone behind the wheel, bringing the truck to a stop at the edge of the circle near the paved stone walkway up to the house. Spying Loki on the porch, he lifted a hand in greeting and made an incredulous gesture at the sudden buckets of rain pounding all around; Loki laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

Thor rolled the window down halfway, flinching as a raindrop pelted him on the cheek. “It should pass in a few minutes…?”

Loki cast a dubious glance at the darkened sky. “With any luck.”

“I’ll just wait it out here then, if you don’t mind.” Thor winced as more drops struck his face, and started to roll the window back up.

“Of course.  Or – you’re welcome to come inside,”  Loki called.

Thor’s gaze flicked from Loki, to the rapidly forming puddles on the driveway, back to Loki.

Loki gave him a wicked grin. “I’d suggest you run.”

Thor returned his grin and popped the door. Sliding smoothly to the ground, he sprinted down the walk, splashing water as he jumped the step to the porch and skidded to a stop. Less than ten seconds, in Loki’s estimation, but his white T-shirt was half soaked and clinging to his golden skin.

“I’m… _saturated!”_ Thor exclaimed, wiping his face as he turned to Loki with a huge grin.

Loki laughed. “Come in, I’ll get you a towel.”

 

* * *

 

 

Thirty minutes later the rain was still falling, though not quite as fiercely. Sheltered on the wide covered porch, beers in hand, they sat nearly thigh-to-thigh on the bench swing. Loki’s legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles; Thor’s left foot, flat on the floorboards, kept the swing in gentle motion.

“My folks live not far from here, actually,” Thor gestured back toward the highway.  “A few miles toward Thrush. Gladsheim is really my dad’s business; my mother keeps goats. She sells milk, cheese, soap, that sort of thing. You’ve seen the displays, at the shop? Fensalir Farm.”

“Mmm,” Loki nodded, though honestly he hadn’t noticed. “And you live there too?”

“Oh, hell no. I mean,” he chuckled, “I lived at home a long time, actually. But, I got my own place in town years ago.” He sighed, looking a little wistful. “I miss the goats, to be honest. I have a way with them.”

Loki smirked. “A _way…?_ ”

Thor elbowed him in the ribs with a grin. “Shut up. No, seriously, they’ll follow me around, move to the pens, hold still for medicine – whatever I want them to do, they do. _Uncanny_ my mother calls it.”

Loki glanced down at Thor’s strong hands, long fingers rough with calluses but still somehow elegant, gentle. “I believe it,” he conceded, taking a sip of his beer. “I had a horse for a while, when I was a teenager and we lived on an estate.”

“An _estate,”_ Thor echoed. “Fancy.”

A smile flashed across Loki’s face. “We lived in a gardener’s cottage away from the main house. My mother was in charge of the roses. And the dogs…the Baroness had about a dozen little lap dogs. My mum was so good at handling them, and keeping them groomed, she was eventually given the title ‘Mistress of the Kennel.’”

Thor laughed. “That’s awesome.”

Loki grinned. “The Baroness was a little eccentric, to say the least. Loved her animals. One day she came down to talk to my mum and got me instead, and told me this fantastic story of her youth as an equestrian. She competed in the 1964 Olympics.”

“No shit!”

“Yep. It was hard to picture, she was about seventy at the time.” A fond smile touched his lips. “She only had three horses when we knew her, but she loved the stable and came by every day to check on them even after she couldn’t ride anymore. She gave me the gray, Silky, the ‘best of all horses’ as she said, to ride anytime I wanted.”

“Nice.” Thor glanced over at him. “Are you still in touch with her?”

“No, she died ten years ago.” Loki’s smile faded. “Her son sold the estate and sent us packing.”

“Oh.” Thor frowned, made a loose fist, and gave Loki a light tap on the thigh with his knuckles. “Sorry.”

Loki was careful not to look down at Thor’s closed hand, still resting lightly against his thigh, a feather of a touch that burned like a brand. “It was good while it lasted.”

Thor gave him a sympathetic smile, blue eyes flicking over Loki’s face, eyes to lips to hair and back again. Loki tensed, waiting, curling his own left hand into a fist to keep it still, certain his want must be written all over his face.

Thor glanced away again, toward the truck and the shaft of sunlight now peeking through the clouds. He lifted his hand, trailing lightly over Loki’s knee as it passed, and gave a little sigh. “Looks like it’s done,” he said, voice rough. “I’ll get that unloaded for you.” He set his empty beer on the ledge and stood abruptly, sending the swing rocking as he made for the steps.

Loki sighed and got to his feet, picking up Thor’s bottle to take to the recycle bin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I decided to break it here because it's just a good place to do that. Sorry. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wall is built.

 

Thor was a machine. By the time Loki returned from throwing out their beer bottles – two, three minutes? – he’d already moved nearly half the bricks into neat stacks at the side of the driveway. “We’ve had a lot more rain than usual this spring,” he’d mused as Loki, pulling on his gloves, joined to help. “At least it’ll make it easier to dig.”

“Dig?”

“For the wall. I don’t think it should take more than three hours, unless it starts raining again, but it looks like that’s past,” he lifted a hand to his eyes as he peered up at the sun, bright now as the clouds drifted east.

“You mean build it _today_?” Loki realized.

“Well, yeah. I’ve got you down for a delivery and build – did Darcy put down the wrong day?” A line creased Thor’s forehead. “She’s usually pretty good about scheduling, but…”

 _Ah._ Loki bit back a smile. “A misunderstanding, I think.”

“Oh.” Thor’s frown deepened. “Well…we can reschedule, I guess. If you’re busy now?”

“No, I just meant,” he began to explain he hadn’t asked for the build at all, and then cut himself off with a shake of the head. “Now is perfect. Do I get half off if I do half the work?” he grinned, setting down a pair of bricks beside Thor’s neat rows.

Thor placed a stack of four bricks next to Loki’s two and gave him a smirk.

Loki glared to cover his grin. “Oh shut up.”

* * *

 

Loki did the digging while Thor began to put down the first layer. Leveling the trench Loki created and adjusting each brick with careful precision, he moved with the swift efficiency of one who had done it a hundred times, talking all the while of nothing in particular. The weirdly wet spring and the potholes plaguing Highway 2.  A long comparison of meat and petrol prices between here and the UK (“gas, we call it _gas_ here, Loki” _–_ “that’s absurd, gas is something you expel”). The new, possibly not-psycho girl from the hat shop that Fandral was dating. Loki normally despised small talk, but with Thor it was – easy. The mundane somehow made interesting.

The clouds blew away as abruptly as they had formed, leaving a hot sun in a clear summer sky and the air heavy and humid. Humidity was not Loki’s friend. He’d put his hat back on after a brief internal worry over how geeky he looked lost out to the need to avoid a horrible sunburn, and his white t-shirt clung to him in sticky patches.

Thor, of course, glowed like a god, although, regrettably, he had not taken off his shirt. Still – golden skin over rippling muscles, long strands of sun-bleached hair escaping their low ponytail to fall in his face. Typically he’d push it all back with one big forearm, but every now and again he’d reach up with a gloved pinky to tuck a side strand behind his ear. It was possibly the most endearing thing Loki had ever seen.      

Getting up to pour a glass of water from the pitcher he’d brought out to the porch, he made a mental note to call Darcy and thank her.

When he glanced back, Thor was watching him, eyes flicking quickly from Loki’s ass up to his face.

Loki’s pulse quickened. He held his gaze, took another long swallow, then tipped the glass toward him. “Water?”

Thor smiled, a slow lazy thing that sent a thrill all the way down Loki’s spine, and went back to hacking at a lumpy tree root. “Yes, please.”

Oh, yes. Definitely in her debt.

* * *

 

Nearly finished, the circle wasn’t quite matching up on the back side. After another half hour of digging and readjusting, then Thor finally taking a hammer to whack a brick in half to fill a gap, the wall was completed and they both got to work pulling out the remnants of the decaying wooden fence within. “Little tougher than I thought,” Thor laughed, finally freeing a particularly stubborn piece of the lining, and flinging it to the growing pile. “Probably would’ve lasted another year.”

“Yes, probably.” Loki yanked at a corner, pulled out a large chunk of lining, and sent soil spilling into the new space. “Still, it _was_ screaming ‘falling apart.’ Not the first thing I want a buyer to think.”

Thor said nothing for a moment, turning back to the tree, and Loki cringed a bit – he hadn’t really meant to say that.

“So, you are selling?” Thor asked at last.

“That’s the plan.” He watched as Thor pulled the last piece of liner loose, tossed it on the pile, and glanced back at Loki. “This is a strange place,” he confessed quietly. “Full of memories, but still not – home.”

Thor straightened up and pushed his hair behind his ear for the hundredth time – a habitual gesture as much as a practical one, Loki was discovering. “It’s understandable. Although, I’m sorry you don’t feel at home here.”

“It’s not…everyone’s been very welcoming,” Loki tried to explain. “It’s – I’ve never been able to stay in one place for long, is all.”

“Oh.” Thor looked thoughtful, then gave him a sly smile. “Well, maybe you were just looking for the _right_ place.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that, but it was impossible not to return a smile from Thor, and he didn’t try. “Maybe.”

* * *

 

Thor insisted on helping dispose of the rotted wooden stakes and chunks of liner, shoveling it all into an empty trash bin. When all was cleared away, he paused with one hand on the spade and looked over at Loki with a cocky smile. “So…are you happy with it?”

He couldn’t even pretend to be unimpressed. “It’s _fantastic!_ I was thinking it needed another layer but – it’s perfect.” It really was: three high on the east side, graduating seamlessly into two along the slight slope of the land. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

They both stood back to admire it for another moment, and then Loki cleared his throat. Sucked to have to bring it up and kind of ruin the moment, but – “So, um – what do I owe you?”

Thor straightened up and shifted the spade to his other hand, bending to pick up his bucket of hand tools.  “Oh – yeah. I’ll go write up your invoice.”

 _Shit_. He hadn’t meant to sound dismissive, and he definitely didn’t want him to leave yet – “Don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” he said casually, jerking a thumb back toward the house. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Thor pulled open the gate to his pickup and slid his tools into the bed. “I would love to,” he said sincerely, and Loki’s heart leapt for an instant despite the regretful tone that meant refusal was coming, “but – I have to go check on some things. My dad,” he clarified, with a shrug and a flicker of concern that passed quickly over his features. “He hasn’t been…well. Anyway. Another time?”

Loki forced a smile. “Sure.”

Thor reached into the cab and pulled out a clipboard, strolling back over to the porch railing to write up the bill. “You doing anything tomorrow night?” he asked as he wrote, not looking at Loki. “There’s a pretty good Italian place in town, Armando’s. Have you been there?”

“I have not.” _Italian._ That was practically a date.

Thor glanced up with a wicked grin. “Are you a hermit or something? There’s, like, four places to eat here.”

“I _am_ a hermit,” said Loki with a dignified sniff, “and I like to cook.”

Thor’s grin turned soft. “Well, they have the best marinara in town. Which I guess isn’t saying much,” he laughed, “but, seriously they have some great food. Want to meet up, say seven-ish?”

He forced himself to shrug like it was nothing. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Great.” Thor’s smile went wide again, and Loki had to tear his eyes away from that gorgeous mouth to look down at the invoice. “I don’t have any cash,” he realized. “Can you take a card?”

Thor frowned down at the total. “I don’t have a swipe machine. Can you write a check?”

“I have a few temporaries?” Loki cringed. He’d opened a local bank account, but hadn’t wanted to order a whole box.

“Tell you what, you can just get me when you come in next.” Thor shrugged, tore off the top copy, and handed it to Loki. “Just show this to Darcy and she can run your card. I really need to get one of those portable things,” he sighed.

Loki stared at him. “Are you sure? I can go in now and --”

Thor waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. Just stop in when you get a chance.” He clapped Loki gently on the shoulder, palm lingering a moment. “Really, it’s not a big deal. I trust you.”

“Your first mistake,” Loki quipped.

Thor dragged his hand up a bit, pausing briefly to cup the back of Loki’s neck before dropping his arm. “I hope not.”

Loki swallowed. Considered, very seriously, just grabbing Thor’s face and kissing him.

But he waited an instant too long, and Thor was stepping back, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Definitely.” Shit. _Shit shit shit. Fucking coward._

“Do you want my number?” Thor asked, looking up from his phone. “You know, in case…”

“Yes, of course. My phone’s inside – write it down?” Loki flipped over the invoice and pushed it toward him.

Thor wrote down his name and number in big, neat print. “Seven,” he reaffirmed.

“Ish,” Loki agreed with a grin.

Thor grinned. “It’s at 3rd and Josephine. See you there.” And then he was walking back to his car, a distinct jauntiness to his step.

Loki watched him drive away, returning his wave as Thor flapped a hand at him out the window when he turned onto the street.

Well. He had a – date. Or something.

He _definitely_ had to thank Darcy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I appreciate your comments and kudos. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People are complicated.

**Chapter 7**

 

 

Loki went to Gladsheim the next morning to settle his bill; despite Thor’s reassurances, he felt uneasy leaving a debt unpaid. Darcy gave him a knowing smirk as he got into line behind a red-haired woman with a cart full of lilies and ornamental grasses. “Be right with you sir,” she chirped.

The woman glanced over at Loki’s empty hands, save for his invoice, and gave a tiny frown. “Is that all you – would you like to go ahead…?”

He lifted a hand, _no thanks._ “It’s fine.” And then shifted back and forth on his feet for a good six or seven minutes while Darcy rang her up with what seemed to him deliberate slowness. Thor was nowhere to be seen, nor Volstagg. He studied a display of seeds and bulbs, and caught a glimpse of products from the goat farm – Fensalir – behind the register along a section of wall by the tools and gardening books. The logo was a pair of rather fierce-looking horned goats pulling a chariot.

“Ready?” Darcy prompted, as the redhead wheeled her cart away. “Sir?”

He rolled his eyes and handed her the invoice. “Why are you pretending you don’t know me?”

“Personal amusement,” she said cheerfully. “So you did have him do it! I knew it.” She scrutinized the bill and smiled a little. “He gave you a discount, imagine that.” She held out her hand for his card.

“I did help,” Loki suggested.

“Admit you’re glad I put it on the schedule,” Darcy commanded, handing his card back.

Loki smirked. “Thank you, meddlesome girl, for ignoring my request and deciding what is best for me,” he said dryly.

“You’re welcome.” She gave him a sunny smile. “I take it it went well?”

“Thor is a talented handyman, yes.” He took the receipt and scrawled his signature.

“Handyman,” she scoffed. “Thor’s an _artist_. He did all the landscaping here.” She gestured out to the gazebo bridge that spanned the drainage channel, artfully bordered with river rocks, low shrubs and bright patches of colorful annuals. “This place was just a big parking lot when they opened it, and now it’s like Middle Earth.” She stapled his copy of the receipt to his invoice and handed it back to him with a conspiratorial grin, voice pitched lower. “So, what happened?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “What did he tell you?”

“Nothing.” She smirked. “But he was in a curiously good mood this morning. Positively bouncy. He’s _taking the afternoon off,_ even.” Her grin widened. “Tell me he stayed over. Did he stay over?”

“That’s really none of your business,” Loki said crossly. Direct, he appreciated. Nosy, he did not.

It was her turn to lift an eyebrow. “That’s a no. Did you chase him off, or did he run?”

_Bit of both?_ Loki sighed. “We are meeting tonight at a place called Armando’s.”

“Oh, nice.” She nodded, looking thoughtful. “It’s – cozy. The meatballs are fantastic. I don’t love the spaghetti so much, they use the thick noodles. But the desserts are _amazing_. You have to try the tiramisu. Thor will probably say ‘no I’m watching my girlish figure’ but you have to insist.”

He smiled. “Duly noted.”

“Don’t take no for an answer,” she wagged a finger at him. “Have fun, and – good luck, I guess?”

“Do I need it?”  

Darcy gave him a lecherous once-over that made him blush. “Not really, no.”

 

* * *

 

 

After an hour dithering over his lamentably limited clothing selection for something nice but not too nice, Loki opted for jeans, a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and his favorite black vest. He needed a haircut; the ends kept wanting to curl up despite his best efforts to smooth it straight.

He  arrived nearly ten minutes early, as was his habit, and was absurdly pleased to see Thor’s truck already in the parking lot. He decided to wait in the car for a few minutes, re-reading the most recent email from his current job, and walked in exactly five minutes late. 

The restaurant was about three-quarters full, softly lit, and it was a moment before he saw Thor stand up to get his attention from a table in the back. He too was in jeans, paired with a crisp blue oxford that brought out his eyes. “You found it,” he greeted with a grin, clasping Loki’s upper arm warmly as he shook his hand.

Loki took the opening to squeeze Thor’s bicep in return. _Yow._ “It really is a small town.”

“Yeah. Which really just means everyone knows your business.” Thor grimaced a little, then shrugged and smiled brightly as they sat down. “I was looking at wine – want to share a bottle?”

“Sounds great.” Loki tore off a chunk of bread from the loaf already at the table, adding lightly, “Sorry I’m late. Have you been here long?”

Thor’s smile was wide and utterly forgiving. “Just a few minutes. You’re fine.”

The food was delicious, as promised; the conversation flowed easily along with the wine; somewhere between the salad and the entrées, Thor laughed at one of Loki’s sly barbs and reached over to squeeze his hand. He didn’t let go until the waitress arrived with their shared dessert – which, incidentally, Thor needed no encouragement to order, and in fact made a playful show of fork-fighting Loki for the last sliver.

All in all, a fine date, Loki decided as they lingered over coffee and a couple of surprisingly excellent little biscotti cookies. How to end it was, of course, the question – invite him over? A kiss in the parking lot? From the way Thor’s eyes kept darting to his lips, he was reasonably certain he wouldn’t be rebuffed. Although he’d been wrong about that before, and had the chipped tooth to prove it.

“So full,” Thor groaned, holding open the door for Loki as they left. Lifting his face to the sunset sky, he smiled up at the spectacular patterns of orange and pink. “Take a walk?”

Loki hummed agreement and they fell into step on the narrow sidewalk, strolling down the slight hill in a companionable silence. At the end of the street, Thor took his arm and pulled him to a stop in front of the middle school, pointing to an mature, scarred ash tree at the edge of the grounds. “It was struck by lightning when I was in fifth grade, on Field Day. We were doing the relay race and it had gotten a little cloudy, but it wasn’t raining or anything, and just out of nowhere - _bam!”_

Loki smirked. “Who won the race?”

“My team, of course.” Thor pinched him.

His grin was infectious, his hand still warm on Loki’s arm, and it was impossible to resist, so he didn’t. He reached up with one hand, slipped it into Thor’s hair, and pulled him into a kiss.

Thor didn’t react immediately. After a moment, Loki started to pull back, and then Thor came alive, gripping him harder as he responded, sliding his other hand up Loki’s back to draw him closer. Loki parted his lips and Thor stole his breath; he tasted deliciously of tiramisu and sugary coffee.

Loki broke away first with a hum of happy satisfaction, turning his cheek to nuzzle Thor’s. Thor let out a long, deep sigh and tightened his hold for a moment, then released him and turned to walk back the way they’d come, sliding his hand down to twine his fingers with Loki’s.

It was a slow, quiet stroll back to the restaurant. Thor kept glancing over at him with an expression Loki couldn’t quite place in the fading light. Nerves, he decided, and squeezed his warm hand, edging closer to press against his shoulder. Thor tilted his head down a fraction, breathed him in, let out another sigh.

A couple was leaving the restaurant as they arrived back at the parking lot. Thor dropped his hand and shifted a step away, giving Loki a tense smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks for meeting me,” he said, glancing over Loki’s head at the couple walking toward the red sedan parked next to Thor’s truck.

Loki followed his gaze and found the couple watching them with open curiosity. When he looked back at Thor, he was another step away, hands stuffed in his pockets.

He sighed inwardly. “This was nice,” he said, quietly, fiddling with his keys.

Thor waited until the couple had gotten in their car before he looked at Loki again. “I’ll see you?”

Loki glanced over at the couple, now pulling out, and back at Thor with a pointed look. “That’s up to you, I think.”

Thor tried to smile, but it didn’t quite make it. “I’ll call you.”

_Right._ Loki forced a smile. “Good night, Thor.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! Your comments are very welcome, particularly as this is a genre I haven't delved into before. I'm happy to hear what I'm getting right - and wrong. ;)


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